


Where I Belong

by Lemon (lemon_sprinkles)



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-07
Updated: 2011-07-07
Packaged: 2017-10-21 03:04:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/220187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemon_sprinkles/pseuds/Lemon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Renly's marriage to Margaery, Loras begins to have doubts about his place in his new kings life</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where I Belong

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rainbo-bro](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=rainbo-bro).



> Couple of things-- this is set between A Game of Thrones and A Clash of Kings which means mild spoilers. Secondly, I know it's debated on whether or not Margaery was still a virgin after her marriage to Renly, and I decided to just say that no, they did not consummate their marriage.
> 
> All characters and settings in the below piece of fiction belongs to George RR Martin, and I am in no way profiting off of this

He had a glow about him. This… presence that drew people in; it made them want to be close to him, as if they too could obtain the carefree and relaxed attitude he exuded. He was smiling, full pink lips curved upwards, while the crown perched upon his head held back hair the colour of coal, thick and straight, a curtain that would hide the two of them as they kissed.

Loras straightened himself beside Renly, his fingers clasped around a pommel—a position he had readily fallen into whenever he had a sword pressed against his hip. Rolling his shoulders, the newly acquired rainbow cloak moved with the easy motion, ripping down his back. Loras wanted to touch it; to remind himself of his new duty.

He had sworn to protect King Renly only a week ago; a vow he took just as his sister had vowed to be betrothed to his lover. Two ceremonies had been carried out that day, but one with substantially more meaning than the other. I will protect you with my life, Loras had promised that day. My life is yours, as is my power. I vow that no harm shall come to you while I stand by your side.

He has said it without hesitation and taken on a duty he would fulfill to the end. He may be on the cusp of seventeen, his hands not yet bloodied nor his eyes clouded by the terrors of war, but he was sure of his devotion and loyalty. He was sure of himself and of Renly. He had more drive to serve and protect the new King than any of the men currently sharing the space with them, their house crests branded upon their cloaks while they discussed politics and strategies. When Renly had married Margaery and declared his new kingship, houses from all over the Reach swore their allegiances; a motion that solidified Renly’s notions of ruling a divided land. They were loyal men and women, to be sure, but they would never match Loras’ loyalty—this he was sure of.

Watching the room carefully, Loras kept his guard up, but allowed his eyes to linger on Renly longer than what should be acceptable. He was still smiling, a ring clad hand resting upon the table while fingers danced along the edge of a map. He was sitting forward, shoulders tense despite the seemingly relaxed appearance. He hasn’t been sleeping well, Loras thought, a frown appearing on his own soft features. Marriage and Kingship made for bad bedfellows, it would seem.

Blinking, Loras broke from the spell Renly had unknowingly cast upon him and stiffened as his new King rose, a fluid motion that stood out among the clatter and cumbersome lords who lacked the easy grace of their King. Renly left the room first, the lords staying behind to bow or smile to their new ruler.

Some still see him as a boy. Loras could see it in their gazes as he followed Renly from the room, a shadow cloaked in bright colours and shining metals. He is more than a young King, and they would do well to respect his words.

“Are you well?” Renly asked as the two of them walked through the twisting but familiar corridors of Highgarden. They would be leaving this place soon to go to battle and reclaim Kings Landing, but for now Loras enjoyed the familiarity the walls of the building offered him when so much was uncertain.

“I am fine, Ren—your Grace. Why do you ask?” he replied, eyebrows furrowing at the obvious slip. He had wished to call him Renly, but knew that things were different now. Things had changed. He was his guard and Renly was married and King. They had an appearance to keep up in the public eye.

“You seemed dazed in the room,” Loras could practically hear the smirk in Renly’s voice, and didn’t even have to look at him to see the familiar upturn of his lips. “I thought maybe you were unwell. Too much excitement, perhaps?”

Coughing softly, Loras berated himself for being so foolish. Of course he had been dazed—he had been paying attention to him; a man that continued to take his breath away; make him stutter like a young boy who hadn’t yet become a man; make him feel giddy with excitement when he so much as smiled in his general direction. He was part of the Kingsguard, sworn to protect, and yet how good would he be if he could only stare at Renly and pay no attention to the happenings around him? “I would hardly say that a meeting with men who look at you as but a boy was exciting.”

He had meant to sound angry, wishing for Renly to feel the same sort of offence at how the lords of the Reach viewed him, but Renly merely chuckled, a warm sound that caught a servant girl off guard as she attempted to get out of the way without being noticed. Instead she fumbled with the clean linens in her hands, and tried to both bow and catch the cloths before they tumbled to the floor. Stopping, Renly watched as one of the white fabrics touched the stone floor, bits of dirt already clinging to the once clean material. Bending, he plucked it from the ground and snapped it sharply twice in the air to flick the debris from it before he passed it to the meek girl before him. She bowed even lower as she took the linen and mumbled a hurried apology, a thank you, and numerous “Your Grace’s” before scuttling off.

“I hardly think they view me as a child, Loras,” said Renly, as if what had just happened mattered not. Kings did not usually stop to help servants pick up dropped items. But Renly was no ordinary king. He will be the best of them. “I may be young, but I served in my brother’s court for years. I know my way around the political world better than most my age.”

“I didn’t mean--” Loras began, but was cut off.

“Stop, Loras… let us not discuss politics and war any longer.” Renly did not sound tired, nor did he look it, but Loras realized the strain that he was under. Renly was excellent at hiding things, though. Loras knew this all too well…

Opening the door to Renly’s room, Loras held it open for him and continued to hold it ajar while Renly ushered out the servants waiting eagerly on the side, hands clasped in front of them; always ready, always present, and always eager to serve. They bowed as they left, and Loras filled the gap the door had left in the doorway, wondering briefly if Renly wanted to be left alone. “Do you require anything?”

“A closed door and your company,” he said, and Loras watched his thin, smooth hands rise to clutch the golden crown that adorned his head before raising it up and off. A few strand of black hair tangled with the roses, and Renly made a very un-king like sound as he carefully plucked his hair out from the clutches of the delicate flowers. Loras couldn’t help but laugh as the man who would be king wrestled with the flower and stag designed crown. “I could have your head chopped off for that laughter,” Renly teased as soon as the crown was off and placed upon a silk cushion, the green and gold fabric catching the light from outside, making the entire area shine and shimmer.

“If I didn’t laugh at you, who would keep your modesty in check? I dare say I am doing you a service by laughing at your personal follies,” he replied, and closed the door softly. As he moved into the room he saw the wedding bed out of the corner of his eye, and his breath caught. For a moment he had felt as if all that had happened the last few days hadn’t happened at all—he felt as if Renly was still a Lord, he still a knight, and thoughts of marriage and kingship were but softly spoken ideas in the dead of night, their sweat slicked skin and tangled limbs accompanying them into flights of fancy. But the bed before him brought it all back, and the rainbow cloak on his shoulders weighed down heavily once more.

The expensive green and gold sheets rested neatly upon the bed, a corner of one of the silks fluttering gently in the wind, making the soft colours and drapery of the fabric look like rippling water. Pillows rested at the head against an ornately carved bedframe, squares, rectangles, and one long tube pillow. Above the bed rested the two joined family crests—a prancing stag for House Baratheon, and the gold rose for House Tyrell; a physical representation of the marriages between the houses. Everything has changed…

On Renly’s wedding night, it wasn’t Margaery who joined him on the bed that was before Loras. They had not yet consummated the marriage; not yet sealed the vow with a kiss and a push. Instead, Loras had been the one to join him that night, the two of them drunk on wine and the revelry of the evening as they rolled upon the bed. Loras hadn’t been thinking that night—hadn’t realized what was happening around him until the morning when he donned his new cloak that signified his own vows.

Renly is your king now, and you are his protector. Things have changed and you don’t know where you fit.

“Where is Margaery?”

Renly’s deep voice broke Loras once more from his train of thought, and he tore his gaze away from the bed to look at him. He was sitting down beside his crown, one arm dangling off of the arm rest of his wooden chair, the other perched upon the table, a quill in his hands as if he were going to write a message but seemed too tired to care. Hearing his sister’s name voiced allowed made Loras’ tongue catch in the back of his throat, and a sense of… guilt? Jealousy? Anger? A feeling he could not quite identify washed over him.

“She is in the garden with her hand maidens and I believe my grandmother,” he answered, and Renly pursed his lips before dropping the quill down on the blank sheet of parchment. His fingers skittered along the top of the desk, and Loras hand clenched above the pommel of his sword, unsure of what Renly was going to do next.

Standing, Renly gazed out the window for a moment, green eyes looking at nothing despite the beauty that lay outside, until he turned back around and smiled at Loras. “Does that mean we have a few short, but precious, moments alone?”

“I suppose it does.” Loras smiled back, although it was shakier than what he had hoped it would be. “You should rest—a man such as yourself needs his beauty sleep.”

“Beauty sleep?” Renly smirked as he ran a hand through his hair, black locks falling back down his shoulders gracefully as he strode towards Loras, fingers going to touch the clasp that held his coloured cloak over his shoulders. “I dare say if I slept any longer I’d be far too beautiful for this world to even comprehend. Women and men would be maddened at the sight of me.”

He was joking, of course, eyes filled with a playfulness that hadn’t been there since the crown with the jade stag was placed upon his head. His fingers continued to toy with the gold rose clasp, and Loras wondered briefly what he was up to. They hadn’t touched nor talked much since battle strategies and political discussions began—this was the first time he had been close to Renly in a little less than a week. “Your vanity is insurmountable, Renly. I have no idea where you got it from—your brothers missed most of it and seemed to have passed it all on to you.”

Renly’s fingers continued to play with the clasp, moving the cape around ever so slightly. “What can I say, Loras—I enjoy beautiful things.” Their eyes locked at that moment, and Loras felt a very sudden and an embarrassing blush creep across his cheeks, serving to make Renly grin broadly. “Have I made the famous Knight of Flowers blush? A man who makes women swoon with a single glance, and men envy with every tournament he wins? I should bring a painter in to capture this image for remembrance. ”

Any retort Loras had was sucked out of him as the clasp that had held the cloak around his shoulders was released, and the rainbow fabric fell from his shoulders to grace the carpeted floor beneath their feet. Suddenly he felt like he could breathe again, the cloak that represented his oath pushed aside in order to accommodate a more intimate and familiar environment between the two. Right now the responsibilities he had taken on were inconsequential to the man before him—a man who, for all intents and purposes, Loras trusted beyond belief, and who seemed to give him the same amount of trust back.

It was humbling. Although telling him I’ve been humbled would surely bring about more relentless teasing.

“You are getting my cape dirty,” he complained, and smirked triumphantly while Renly merely raised an eyebrow. “What is this? Have I silenced the famous King? A man who was told to leave the room when King Robert held court and he couldn’t keep his thoughts to himself? I dare say the painter should be brought in to paint those lips of yours closed.”

And Renly laughed once more, his head tossed back in a joyous motion as he let the laughter run its course. Renly was a physical man—both in wanting and needing to touch the things around him, but also in how he showed his emotions. It was free, it was wild, and it was intoxicating.

“Let me help you out of this,” Renly said between laughter, his hands going to work off the gold and green brocade surcoat. It took a while for them to undress, the two of them laughing and playing off of each other in a way that reminded Loras of the days when they would meet in the tents during tournaments—not a care in the world save for how they would win the next day. When their clothing had been shed and the cloak picked up and carefully placed to the side, Renly finally moved to kiss him, his broad palm cupping his jaw while the other pulled him in close by the hip. Loras tangled his fingers in the hair that had been captured by another rose mere moments ago, and parted his lips for him, giving Renly a little more of himself with every action.

“I’ve missed this,” Renly panted out once they broke, ducking his head down to kiss and nip at the skin on Loras’ throat, hand pushing away honey brown curls in the process. “It’s only been a week and yet I desire you every moment of these torturously long days.”

They moved back quickly, all hands and lips as they tumbled down on to the bed, Loras’ knees hitting the side making him pull Renly down on top of his slighter, smaller frame. With Renly on top of him, his heat soaking through against his own flushed skin, Loras found it hard to think of anything more than the press of his lover against him. Everything else—the doubt and worry that had plagued his mind and invaded his thoughts—was left behind along with their clothing, and Loras relished in the feeling of lips and hands all over his heated flesh.

He hasn’t changed, nor have I, he thought while Renly spread his legs open with steady hands, I’ve simply fallen into the notion that things have to had changed; a silly, youthful one. Renly’s warm breath against his cheek brought him back, and he smiled up at him, a quick upturn of the corner of his mouth. Renly matched the smirk and kissed the corner of his lips, a hand running through the curls of his hair while the other slid down his side. Grasping his hip, Renly rubbed the skin with the pad of his thumb, feeling the unmarred flesh with practice ease.

Moaning softly, Loras tangled his fingers in Renly’s long raven coloured hair, his own sword calloused fingers petting the skin behind his ear while the press of Renly’s heated groin against his own made him buck up, fingers digging into Renly’s forearm. Moving together they created an unhurried rhythm. We’re in this together.

The rays of the sun crept along the walls and the floor of the room, warming them further, while the shadows from the silks and curtains that surrounded them created patterns across Renly’s back and Loras’ spread legs. He could feel Renly duck down, his nose and lips pressing against his straining throat as they rocked their bodies together, his hand moving from his hip to wrapping around his waist, propping him up in order to increase the friction and speed. Keeping his eyes open, Loras listened to the sounds of Renly’s heavy breathing while the colours of the two houses and richly designed fabrics and speckled shadows danced before his eyes. The light that hung in the air made dust motes shimmer and glean, while the pollen from the gardens below mixed with the scent of sex and leisure. The sound of Renly’s soft moans coupled with the sound of their flesh meeting made Loras bite his bottom lip, already pink and swollen from kissing.

They sped up soon enough, their bodies controlling their actions as Renly pulled Loras as close as possible, hips jerking forward and circularly, bodies taught and muscles straining while they desperately fought for completion. Renly’s head lifted just as Loras teetered at the precipice of pleasure, his deep green eyes clouded with lust, desire, and… love. Loras couldn’t help but smile, a smile that was shaky but no less heartfelt as Renly rested his forehead against his own. “Come before me?” he managed to pant out, feeding on Renly’s competitive streak. He could see a flash in his eyes, as if he were willing to prevent himself the pleasure of release in order to defy Loras. But his immediate needs prevailed, and he kissed Loras with that same ferocious passion and intensity that Renly possessed whenever it came to Loras. He took the plunge first and let himself go, body shuddering and hands gripping pale, soft skin so tightly bruises would be left. Kissing him back, Loras could feel Renly’s release coat his groin and thighs, and followed right after him, unable to deny himself any longer.

Once Renly would go, Loras would never be far behind—always ready to follow his lord, his king, and his lover. Where Renly would go, Loras would follow, forever and for always.

Perhaps I am being a fool. Perhaps nothing has really changed, and if it has, it is for the better. We’re in this together, he and I. I vowed to protect him with my life, and in doing so I gave him everything I am, both as a warrior and as a man. They slowed down after a time, bodies spent and minds high on the rush. The kiss was finally broken by Renly after they were left panting and breathless, lips brushing but not touching as they locked eyes. Green met honey gold, and Loras marvelled at the sight before him. Renly’s black hair was a mess, the light making the errant strands stand out even more, and Loras was tempted to muss it up further just to see how irritated he would get with it being the way it was. His cheeks were flushed and his lips were pink and swollen, spit making his bottom lip shine in the warm light. And his eyes held that tenderness they always held, eyebrows relaxed and lids half shut as the lust and desire made way for drowsiness and pure, unfiltered happiness. He could feel Renly giving him the same once over, and playfully pushed his face away.

“Are you feeling better?” Renly asked as he moved with the motion of Loras’ push, his body sliding off and down beside him on the bed. The slow movement disturbed the air, and Loras smelt sex, musk, spiced wine and rose perfume as he lay stretched out on the bed, one arm resting above his head, the other resting on his stomach. He wanted to laugh at the question, to scoff and make it seem as if had been fine along, but unlike Renly he was terrible at hiding anything from him.

“How can I not when I am beside you?” he said, and rolled over to rest above Renly. Tracing his strong jawline with the tips of his fingers, Loras studied Renly’s features, looking for a sign that things weren’t as they always were—looking for a sign that showed him his worries weren’t in vain. But Renly’s eyes were still green, hair still long and silky, lips still full with that smirk always hidden just below the surface. He looked like he did a week, a month, even a year ago. This had been their dream together; House Baratheon and House Tyrell joined while Renly grasped at the power he so deserved. “This is where I am meant to be.”

“Where you’re meant to be?” Renly’s voice was soft and gentle and his eyes curious.

This is where I belong—where I fit, he thought. This is where I’ve always belonged—at my King, my friend, and my lover’s side.

“Right beside you,” he replied, and he sealed his words with a kiss.


End file.
